


Gen'rals Gathered in Their Masses

by LadyZeppelin1111 (QueenBoudica1770)



Series: Led Sabbath [1]
Category: Black Sabbath, Led Zeppelin, Music RPF, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Bisexual Male Character, Black Sabbath/Led Zeppelin, Blow Jobs, Drug Use, Fluff and Smut, Friendship, Funny, Gay, Hand Jobs, Hanging Out, Humor, Led Sabbath, M/M, Male Slash, Occult, Porn, Public Blow Jobs, Slash, Smut, Some Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:00:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25718452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenBoudica1770/pseuds/LadyZeppelin1111
Summary: Ok, I had to do it. Two of my favorite things: Black Sabbath and Led Zeppelin, like peanut butter and chocolate. Or lollipops in my mouth and butter in my ass. You get the drift, two of the biggest things in hard rock paling around and getting a little...closer.This is separate from my other series and storylines, doesn't follow Good Times, Bad Times, Latter Days or Lost Boy.I intend for this to be a separate series, Led Sabbath. Heh.
Relationships: Geezer Butler/Ozzy Osbourne, Jimmy Page/Ozzy Osbourne, Jimmy Page/Robert Plant, Tony Iommi/Robert Plant
Series: Led Sabbath [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1865431
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	Gen'rals Gathered in Their Masses

**Author's Note:**

> Humor, blow jobs, occult interests, friendship, unrequited feelings. Just a whole bonanza.
> 
> Nothing was really researched, just yanno, do the suspension of disbelief thing. It's flippant funny fuckery just because.
> 
> No offense meant for any person living or dead or undead.

Led Sabbath

1

London, sometime in the bootylicious 1970s

“John’s coming over,” announced Ozzy to the rest of the band during their practice session.

“What, now?” wondered Tony.

“Yeah,” Geezer answered. It seems Ozzy and the bassist always had some sort of shenanigans brewing at any given time, and everyone else had to find out as chaos revealed itself.

“Which John?” called out Bill from behind his kit. “There’s a John in the Who, Zeppelin, 85% of the British population…”

Ozzy answered it was Bonzo, which totally made Bill Ward NOT excited, as he had finally built himself one hell of a drum kit and didn’t want the Zeppelin drummer to wreck his set. Again.

“The Zeppelin is coming over while we’re trying to rehearse?” the guitarist rolled his eyes and groaned.

Ozzy and Geezer giggled, both pretty self-satisfied.

Sure enough, before long the Zeppelin touched down at the studio space Sabbath had claimed as their own. Bonzo had already been drinking, John Paul Jones was scowling, and Robert and Jimmy looked for all the world like they were planning something. Typical.

So the Zeppelin lads insisted on jamming with them, which actually didn’t turn out so bad, with Ozzy and Planty fighting over singing duties and what they should sing. Bonham got his way and played Bill’s drums, but didn’t break them, thank goodness. Then there was a discussion on the original incarnation of the Black Sabbath song “War Pigs” which was titled “Walpurgis Night,” based on the night of celebration for witches complete with burning at the stake imagery.

Jimmy was, of course, fascinated, and ended up huddled with Geezer and Ozzy, the two occult, black magic weirdos of Sabbath, though Geezer leaned more toward dark science fiction. Robert took the opportunity to sidle up to the quiet, ever-watchful Tony as he was putting his Gibson SG back on its stand. He was huge, taller than Robert, with shoulders wide as a bull. Coupled with his quiet nature and dark hair and mustache, and penchant for wearing all black, it tended to intimidate a lot of people.

Not Percy, though. He wasn’t the brightest light bulb in the fixture, if you get my meaning. He just stood looking up at the guitarist with his piercing eyes gazing back at Robert. 

“Hey, handsome. Let’s go have a cigarette,” he said, and sashayed out the door. 

Tony sighed and followed the singer. The boys in Zep could be fruity as hell, but they were the biggest thing in the world now, and an example for Black Sabbath. Hell, they’d pretty much stole the beat for “Paranoid” from the Led Zeppelin song “Communication Breakdown.”

In the lounge, they grabbed something to drink and lit up, plopping down on the comfy, overstuffed chairs. “So,” Robert began in between puffs, “Is it Ozzy and you, or Ozzy and Geezer?”

Tony stared at him a moment before he understood, then snorted. “Ozzy and Geezer. Thick as thieves since the beginning.”

“Thought as much,” mumbled Robert thoughtfully. “D’you want there to be anything? With either of ‘em?”

What’s with these questions! Tony hated Robert’s little twenty questions sessions, even though he was pretty easy on the eyes, and the guitarist had more in common with him than the posh Jimmy or Jonesy. His women’s blouse was open, revealing plenty of broad chest and delicious looking abdomen. Noticing the guitarist’s gaze on him, he tossed his golden locks and shot him a look stating he was waiting for an answer.

“I’d thought of it,” Tony admitted, but neglected to say who.

“You’re the strong silent type. I like that,” Robert grinned, stubbing out the used up cigarette in the available ash tray. “But you need to go for what you want.”

“God, sod off, Percy,” the Sabbath guitarist growled. He assumed Page and Plant were an item, but never dreamed they’d be so flagrant, so open with it.

“It’s kinda slow here today. You guys the only ones booked?”

Tony stared at him, uncomprehending.

In no time flat Robert was in Tony’s lap, arms around his thick neck, giggling like a schoolgirl. “What the FUCK, Robert?”

“Since our black magic experts are busy and the rhythm sections likely drinking, what say we have a little fun?” Robert nuzzled Tony, purring like a great cat.

“Robert, I’m not a fairy, cut it out,” Tony began, but was silenced when the blond singer pressed his lips against Tony’s, forcing them open, probing with his tongue. 

Tony let him.

“So that’s what War Pigs was supposed to be,” Jimmy was impressed at the first draft lyrics. They were dark, occultic, positively evil.

He loved it, and told Ozzy and Geezer as much. The pair smiled like loons, validation from the Grandmaster, the dark wizard himself.

It kinda turned Jimmy on. There was more to these Birmingham goons than he’d given them credit for. He thought Robert was a one-off, a diamond in the rough. Now it turns out the Middle of Fucking Nowhere had sprouted more talent. 

Jonesy, Bonham and Bill were in the corner, nipping off Bonzo’s ever-present boot flask and talking shop. Though Bill didn’t want the Zeppelin drummer around his kit, he did love him dearly. Bonzo was softspoken, at least when sober, generous, funny, and the best drummer the rock world had to offer. Not that Bill was shabby, he was an amazing drummer, but the production on the Zeppelin records eclipsed that on the Sabbath ones.

“So,” Jimmy said in that soft, nasally voice of his. “You have any other gems you’re not telling me about?” He put his arm around Ozzy’s shoulders, squeezed a little too hard. Ozzy didn't mind, he was already tripping on LSD.

Back in the lounge, somehow Robert had ended up on his knees before Tony with the larger man’s prodigious dick in his mouth.

Tony wondered how this came about. He wondered if Jimmy was nailing or trying to nail any of the other members of Sabbath. He also wondered if he was still straight, and if he would ever reveal his unrequited love for Geezer.

Goddamn, but Robert could suck a cock. Oh MY, he was using his hands, dragging his tongue up and down the shaft, what the bleeding fuck was he doing to Tony’s balls, this was better than anything a girl had ever done to him, OH DEAR GOD—

And Tony came, spurted into Robert’s eager mouth, some spilled out on those pretty, rosy lips, and it was sexy as hell. He worked the guitarist’s member until the jets of come slowed, then ceased, and he licked up the excess he hadn’t been able to swallow. Then he stood, his straining bulge evident in those tight trousers, and unzipped his jeans to allow his monster cock to be free.

Tony stared at the massive cock, transfixed. Oh, wow. He hoped he didn’t have a gag reflex.

**Author's Note:**

> So here's another fandom and pairing nobody probably asked for but you're getting anyways lmao. 
> 
> Kudos, suggestions, comments, love (please tell me I'm not the only one to think of this) etc welcome.


End file.
